Sailing in the Hermit and Ninigo Islands, PNG

I thought I would tell you of my little adventure that I undertook from the Hermit islands the other day. As any of you who have undertaken a sea passage will know the value of an extensive library with informative books on board is priceless We have on board a book called; We, The Navigators by David Lewis and eventually I had a chance to read it. The inspiration it gave me is what led to my approaching the locals in Luff village on the island of Luff for the possibility of buying a canoe from them.

The result was a round of laughter! Even the kids thought it was a joke! After some discussions and relaying to the villagers, via demonstration, my safety equipment and the plan for Firebird to follow my course the following morning, they readily agreed and I had solved my problem of sourcing a canoe. It was not bought in the end but rather hired for a fee of 70 kina. I was to leave the canoe at the Ninigo islands with the brother of Judith, wife to David whom I had made the rental from! Oddly enough David's fathers name is Jillan which they pronounce very similarly to Dylan so you could say then that this deal was written in the stars? OR what.

Anyway I spent a full afternoon preparing the small 3m wood carved canoe with attached outrigger. We used stainless steel screws for reinforcing most joints and also used Vicki's washing line to re lash the struts running to the outrigger. David and I paddled aboard the canoe to some land his family owns and then cut a mast and boom from bamboo we found. We then stepped the mast with a double brace secured to the inside of the canoe. After fitting the shrouds on the mast she looked like a real sailing canoe. I christened the vessel The Brent William!

Jim and Vicki and I spent the remainder of the week circumnavigating the beautiful lagoon of The Hermits which holds so much to discover, from Manta rays to bird sanctuaries and abandoned copra plantations. They even have deer on the one island left as a remnant by the German who occupied the islands at one stage during the German control of Papua New Guinea. On our return to the village I made some final adjustments to the sail which I had whipped together from an old piece of our shredded gennaker. It looked a charm.

David and I went out for a little spin on TBW that afternoon, and as it had been for a full ten days prior, the winds were so beautifully light. Firebird was anchored in the lee of Luff so we only managed to capture some gusts flitting over the island on the odd occasion. Still she looked good.

I had packed all my necessaries and, as it was simply going to be an overnighter, I took as little as possible. Besides the canoe was small and already heavily laden with my bulky frame on board! I said my farewells to Jim and Vicki after confirming the arrangements for the adventure, i.e. at what stage they should send a helicopter to look for me!

I set off from Firebird at 4pm to make the pass by sun down at 6.30pm. As there was no wind I had to paddle the full six miles until I managed to get out of the lee. Of course this was not a problem and I anticipated a large amount of paddling which I was happy to do. It would be a total of 50 miles until I reached Sand island at the entrance of the Ninigo island group! I also had the benefit of having a small island about two thirds of the way between the groups.

Of course the point of the exercise was to use a traditional craft to sail between islands and navigate with traditional methods: those being the use of a star path from one point to the next; the gauging of speed through the water to determine approximate Speed over Ground by the observation of phosphorescence; also the determination of island bearings by observation of overlapping waves. Of course I would scout for bird life as well when approaching Ninigo.

I was smart enough to carry safety equipment and in the likelihood of me capsizing or loosing the canoe and being set adrift I had a life jacket, a VHF and a GPS. Of course the navigational items were stowed in double sealed ziplock bags as well as being waterproof items themselves. But just in case! Vicki had also handed me a little infra red pointer light with a built in sharp whistle! I was to whistle if I was within range. Something like the Titanic!

I found the going fairly easy and took on very little water for the first six miles. I had one rendezvous on the VHF with Jim at sundown to check the range of the radio and to give them an idea of my position and then that was to be it. I had a short conversation and confirmed that the VHF was operational and fully charged. I also gave him my position which at that stage was off of the island of Aron and almost at the pass itself. Just where I had wanted to be at that time. Things were going well. I had the sail set and was on a starboard tack with the wind off my quarter. It was, as they say, plain sailing! The wind I was getting was from a very large squall that had developed off to the North and as it closed in on me the wind started to freshen.

I sailed without incident, other then some occasional bailing, until around eight nautical miles from the pass, or so I gauged. The wind as I say was freshening a little past what I regarded as perfect conditions but, in my inexperience I pushed the little canoe onward. I had a stream of yellow milk running out behind me and guessed I was somewhere between three and four knots. Because of the increased cloud cover I now had no stars to head for but used instead the faint glow of the sunset left in the Western sky. I was hoping the squall would pass and I would again head for Venus.

I had noted that with the higher winds the following seas that built up rapidly were becoming a nuisance in that they continued to break over the stern and fill the small canoe with water. I was bailing as usual on a regular basis. In order to bail one was required to turn around on the very narrow seat, whilst bracing the paddle against the hull of the canoe to keep me headed roughly downwind, and then with my free hand scoop out the liquid disaster that continued to make its way into the carved log I was riding on. Of course this in itself would put the weight of myself further aft and so it would be easier for the swells to drop casually over the side to join there growing numbers inside my floating adventure. I had to scoop real fast.

Suddenly without warning I had three fair size rollers tip the scales for me and within the next ten seconds various thoughts raced through my head. At this point the wind was gaining in strength well past the 15 knot mark and I found myself hurling myself into the warmth of the Bismarck Sea cursing, swearing and begging for mercy all in the same breathe. From the water I bailed and bailed and bailed for all I was worth in an attempt to keep the canoe afloat, but the canoe was too low in the water to beat the speed of the next swell that dropped in to ruin my ride. I noted with a slight amount of panic that as I was treading water I was kicking up a huge cloud of phosphoresce and I came to the very abrupt conclusion that this probably was not a good idea if there happened to be any sharks in the vicinity! So I neatly furled and lashed my sail to reduce my drift and then eased myself up onto the reinforced struts. During all this time I had to somehow keep hold of my paddle, my bailer and my bag which held the essential items for hailing help. At this point the life jacket burst open automatically and as it was in the bag itself it tossed a few things out in the process, which I would learn of later. I was almost unable to get my hand into the bag but did manage to dig out the radio and GPS only to find that they had taken on the resemblance of goldfish in the now bloated water filled ziploc bags! I emptied the bag out and then placed them back in and re-sealed them.

The rain, which had come with the freshening of the wind, really started to pour now and if I knew anything I was grateful that at least it would calm the surface of the sea for me. Which it did. My time on board the floating canoe was spent talking to myself about just how stupid I had been to do this and why the hell did I do it in this shitty canoe and why the hell did the weather, now of all days, decide to turn for the worse! I also spent some time talking to GOD, as one does. It is only once you are in the water that you feel the immensity of it. I mean you could go on drifting for days without anyone finding you!

About an hour later the wind and rain quit and the sea again there was calm. I took inventory and noted that I had lost my life-giving coconuts which had made their escape during my frantic bailing session. I had the choice to proceed the 40 miles left to Ninigo or turn about and head back to the Hermits. I decided I would try it one more time although it took a lot of debate to make that choice considering I had nothing left but a bag of pineapple pieces!

Anyway I struck out again, and again within an hour my little craft was overcome with the seas, this time the hungry ocean taking my bailer in the process. I realised that it was pointless to run downwind with my canoe and after much discussion with the Almighty and after the second clearing I was faced with the same choice. In the end it was the switch in wind, to dead on the bow, that made me decide to turn around. I could hear the distant roar of the surf breaking on the North Western edge of the Hermit Island group and paddled towards that. It felt like an eternity until the islands came into sight and it took even longer until I landed at the most northerly of a string of islets on the outer barrier reef, all the time scooping with my hand to rid the vessel of water. I was exhausted and by the clock on the GPS it was 0345. I forced myself to drag the canoe to the sand and then tried to fall asleep on the beach. I had a comfy cushion in the form of an inflated life jacket but the sand flies were the pits. I was forced to move up to the harder but less infested area of shrubbery and took my sail with me to provide some shelter from the wind and the cold. I hardly slept and at 0530 I watched the beautiful sunrise and had a good laugh to myself. Shortly after I realised that I had only one chance of getting to Firebird and that was to flag her down from the island of Aron, the same island I had logged my last position as the previous night. The wind was a good 18 knots and just forward of the Starboard beam. In my little canoe it pushed me sideways more then it pushed me forward. I had sourced a second hand bailer on the beach in amongst the rest of the washed up plastic and this served its purpose until it too was lost when I sunk a third time inside the lagoon. The windwaves had built to a big enough height that my little canoe was being swamped beam on! I really couldn't go anywhere in the little vessel.

Just as I was re floating TBW, Firebird came around the corner. I was so relieved that I shouted for joy. It was a wonderful sight and I was certain that Jim and Vicki had me in there sights. It looked like they were coming towards me. Only a matter of minutes now I thought. I was on board again and stroking easily in the general direction of Firebird but oddly enough they seemed to be altering course to move away from me. Frantically I realised that they had not seen me. For me Firebird stood out like a sore thumb but when I looked at the trailing dinghy I realised that they could not see me as I was too far away and the seas were very rough. I hoisted sail and tore downwind bailing like crazy and hoping like hell I could get in front of them before they left me behind. To do this I had given up my advantage of being at least close to Aron island and now I was rapidly enlarging the gap between myself and where I had planned to make a landfall. To make it worse Firebird cruised past out of earshot of my whistle and none the wiser to my shoddy position! I tried the buggered VHF but it was no use. I was stranded out at sea and now I had only two small islands left to try to reach or face certain prolonged drift time at sea!

I paddled until the blisters on my hands wore off and until the bruising on my numb bum became tremendous. The wind kept up its strength and at 11H30 I made landfall at Mono Island feeling as if I had been beaten with a baton. My whole body ached and I had nothing to rejuvenate my strength with! I again dragged the canoe above the high tide mark and then went to survey my island. It had precious little but the occasional coconut tree. It was overloaded with washed up plastic bottles and broken buckets and after a fruitless search for a well I resorted to lining up scavenged bottles and placing leaves for funnels in the mouths to catch any rain water. I then climbed a coconut tree and cut down about 8 drinking nuts and found one eating nut already on the ground. During my search on the island I found an abandoned camp which I adopted and which fortunately came with a traditional coconut opener which I was pleased to find. I was to find out the young coconuts had not much juice in them and they were very distasteful indeed. I had finished my last pineapple pieces on arrival and the rain that had drenched me at sea and that I had tried my best to lap up with an open mouth was not enough and when I cracked the eating nut to find it infested with ants I figured I had best try the next island for water as I was getting real thirsty!

On my walk to the tip of my first island I found that the rain had filled many freshly fallen leaves that were on the ground, and in my thirst I lapped up what little there was there for me. It helped a lot. I reached the end of the island and found a jerry jug intact with its lid off sitting half way buried on the sand and its cap missing. I thought it would make an excellent rain water holder and when I drew it from the sand its weight made me think that it was filled with rain water. Of course when I tipped it over to obtain some of it I found only heavily packed wet sand, which was no fun at all! I began the swim from my island to the next. When I was almost there I saw a shape in the water offshore from the island I was arriving at and double checked to see if it was anything. I was convinced it was a log and continued swimming until I heard shouting from the log! It turned out to be my very good friends Jonah and Steven. They at first thought I was the infamous white witch of legend come to get them but when they realised it was me they raced towards me and happily I gorged down two fresh drinking nuts which were easily opened with the aid of a machete! My life had changed once again and I was no longer a scavenger but rather a survivor. We walked along the beach back to their camp and found the two ladies who could not believe my story! I was just so happy to have so many fresh coconuts and also a five gallon jug of water to drink!

The afternoon past quickly and after returning from collecting my things from my original camp I was fed coconut crab and sweet white rice. It was simply delicious.

My plan was to leave the Island I had landed on and, due to the excessive loss of skin on both my hands and my thighs/buttocks, I had made my choice to, swim the three miles to Aron Island, walk around Aron itself and then swim the remaining half mile passage across to Maron Island thence making my way to the old copra plantation. You might ask why I had this in mind and to answer that I have to go back to when Jim, Vicki and I passed by the same deserted copra plantation a week before. We were casually enjoying the old structures that stood corroded and wind whipped and we had noticed two items, which currently on this island I was in serious need of! Housing and fresh water! I knew it also had fresh pawpaw's, breadfruit and plenty of coconuts! Fortunately the need for me to swim the miles I have recalled was swept aside on the chance discovery of Steven and Jonah and the two very accommodating, but somewhat surprised ladies, who undertook all the cooking during that afternoon, evening and the following morning.

After meeting Jonah I was ecstatic at the thought of an easily opened coconut, care of the machete, that is ubiquitous amongst the islanders from age 2 and up! Before 2 years of age they are only allowed to play with the small knives!

My astonishment at meeting Jonah and Steven was not short lived and it very easily whipped my mouth sealed. I was in a word - speechless, for most of the afternoon in fact. And thoroughly thankful for having stumbled onto there fishing expedition. They had come out two days prior to undertake fishing of trochus shells for trading to the fortnightly boat that traded for rice, flour, sugar and other dry goods. The ladies were present for the vital role of food preparation and this they did without once complaining. In fact after they had overcome their initial shock at seeing the 'white witch' they plied me with fresh white rice and fresh coconut crab.

These crabs are simply delicious and are somewhat abundant in The Hermits, particularly on the outer islands where no one resides. Hence I was treated to coconut crab with coconut milk-laden white rice and all the drinking coconuts I could wish for. In fact my consumption of drinking nuts, along with my over-indulgence of drinking nuts once back in the village, led to a small private joke. Wherever I went I was given fresh coconuts and of course now that I had set the precedent, I could not refuse the kindly hospitality and continued gorging myself with the delicious liquid. I think I impressed them because they could not believe that someone could drink so many nuts in such a short time! For me it was bliss.

Out on the Mono island in the afternoon we made our way over to the small island and collected my wares. Thereafter I was happy to indulge in a brackish water shower from the well placed just to the rear of the camp. The men's house was where I slept and the cook house is where the ladies slept. The night was ghastly with excessive lightning, rain, thunder and a whistling wind that all but ripped the pandanus roof off! It is interesting to note that the locals here sleep on milled lengths of planking suspended between two pieces of cut coconut palm trunk. On top of these planks they place palm leaves to form a soft layer between the aching joints and the hard wood base! It is not what you would call comfortable, especially when the rain starts to pour down too. I was too beyond worry to try and reposition myself and just slept where I was.

We left the outer island of Mono in the morning once the wind had died down to around 15 knots. Still a fair gust let me tell you. Especially when it is blowing you continually leeward and off course. A somewhat depressing affair when one considers that you have only so short a distance to cover before being in the sanctity of the village. And then to make matters even more interesting, the ladies outrigger broke apart about three quarters of the way across the lagoon. Off we dashed. Well almost a dash I suppose, and found that the little stakes that are placed in the outrigger and then lashed to the strut had come undone! Fortunately the outrigger was an old, somewhat waterlogged, relic and Jonah was able to reposition it and drive the stake home with the piece of timber that formed their seat!The seas had become a little agitated again and in the end the guys dumped all their heavy trochus shell, and their income, back into the water. Another sign of just how far backwards these wonderful people are willing to bend for a friend.

Our ultimate canoe journey, from Mono to the centre of Luff island, took us a further demanding 4 hours of paddling, and by the time we were approaching the shoreline I was all but finished. We landed the craft and watched as Steven and the ladies landed further to leeward of our position! We walked up through the vegetable gardens and found a very pleasing waterfall where once again I drank to my hearts content and took a refreshing shower too.

We then rejoined Steven and the ladies in their canoes and poled our way in the protected shallows to the first house on the shoreline. This happened to be Stevens' grandfather, who, along with his family, was considerably shocked to see a honky arriving on his front door step! The good thing was that he remarked on the strobe he had seen on Mono island the night before. This was me giving the boys and girls a show of how the strobe light works. And for me it was pleasing to know that it was visible from the five miles away so clearly.

Shortly after, Jonah led me to his brother and my soon-to-be family in the village. I guess it is mandatory for the man who sold you the canoe to be your host when you wash up on shore again! Anyway this is how it turned out, and David and Judith, along with all the villagers, all expressed their happiness to see me, showed their hospitality in providing me with copious amounts of nutritious local kai-kai and supplied me with many great tales of yesteryear. Joe, the chief, in particular always had an anecdote to share with me. The most central topic was the consensus from each and every individual in the village that their prayers had been answered. A further glimpse into their meaning left me somewhat tearful. They had all seen the big storm and had all had me in their prayers, many of them professing that they had not slept very much as they were so worried for me. It was overwhelming and the community warmth that was extended to me was beautiful. I was to become part of the furniture in the space of just three short nights. Young children who at first were weary of our presence a week prior during our village visits soon became my closest companions while walking around the pathways that lead hither and thither.

I was allocated a spare house, owned by the teacher, Joel, and his wife. A nice 5 roomed, raised, natural fibre abode. Four bedrooms with an attached store room and a lower level covered patio area. No furnishings but none were required. The floorboards were well placed stripped bamboo pieces fixed to the framework and formed a most comfortable surface on which to sleep. I was actually allocated the kids mattress along with a really nice traditional woven pandanus mat. Everything was pure, natural and so fulfilling in every sense I required! Jonah stayed in the front room and accompanied me anywhere and everywhere I wanted to go. The shower cubicle was on the shoreline just above the high tide mark and a small well accompanied by a bucket, a scoop and a sponsored bar of soap by the pastor put me in scented heaven.

Judith, along with Nancy, their adopted daughter, had food for me three times a day, everyday, and in large quantity! Plain white rice, coconut white rice, banana white rice, fried breadfruit, baked breadfruit, breadfruit bake with fish, kassava, kumara (sweet potato), taro, and always a fresh drinking nut was my daily intake. I absolutely fell in love with the breadfruit 'toast'. Judith would heat the home made coconut oil and deep fry the breadfruit slices until they were soft on the inside, and crispy on the outside. Absolutely delicious and the closest Joe would come to his tales of 'Westin toast' during his trips to South East Asia. He seemed content as was I.

The hours were consumed mostly on the comfortable bamboo floor asleep or at the wooden bench in the large 'haus cook' eating liked a famished man. On Sunday I attended the church where another funny thing occurred. David had given me 2 Kina for the collection and along came the time for collection. I walked closely behind Judith not wanting to make a scene of any sort and had turned to make my strides back to my seat when I whacked my head on the beam of the church building! All around laughter and concern! They do not have many villagers above 5'10" so my 6'3" had not been considered when erecting the church!

That night I was talked into watching a movie at the local movie haus with all the children and many adults in tow.
"What are we to watch?' I asked
And I will give you Ten bucks if you can guess what they had selected?

OK you probably all got it........CASTAWAY!~

All throughout the movie it was a cheerful 'Dylan he is just acting, but yours was real!' And then more concern and happiness uttered over the fact that their prayers had been answered and I had been watched over.

Monday came by and I had arranged with the very accommodating owner of MV GOLDEN DAWN, Craig, to hitch a ride over to the Ninigo group and to meet up with Jim and Vicki on FIREBIRD. I had contacted them first thing on my return to the village on Friday midday on the HF radio that all the islands are equipped with from the government. It allows them to access medical help 24 hours a day in the form of voice assistance. Also the necessary services can be contacted in the event of a death on the island or a birth or a crime or for that matter a washed up white man! It turns out I was not the first one to have landed on these pleasant shores either. There was an 82 year old who had wrecked his yacht in Fiji, then rebuilt and sailed on to The Hermits, Papua New Guinea when he had run aground and escaped with his life care of the wonderful people of Luff Village. He managed to get on the next ship going to the Philippines where he was scheduled to be married!!!

Anyway back on Golden Dawn, Craig and his very capable staff took care of me for the following 48 hours, while we dived our way across the two groups to rendezvous with Firebird at the island of Mal. As if my time in the village was not enough, I was treated like a guest on board Golden Dawn and fed to the brim once again. This time four meals a day including loads of water, teas, coffees, cookies and biscuits. To top it off and make it a real fairy tale, I was invited to dive at will. As it is a dive charter vessel they have guests on board who dive four times a day! I was not going to relinquish this great opportunity and ultimately undertook eight dives in the two days travel. The beauty and indescribable wonder of the underwater world still astounds me on every dive. Soft Corals, hard corals, silver tip sharks, reef sharks, barramundi cod, nudibranches, turtles, dolphins squeaking always in the distance, tremendous wall drop offs, drift dives, night dives, rays and more. It was a wonderful time aboard.

The morning I was to leave Golden Dawn, I declined to go on the early dive, as Jim and Vicki were on their way over to me. And a good thing it was. Poor Craig, who had been so hospitable to me, lived to tell his own unreal tale. He and the other divers had descended along the outer wall of the barrier reef and had attracted a number of silver tip sharks. At some point one of the sharks took a fancy to his left shoulder! Thankfully he had on a buddy tank and the hungry critter left with only an imprint of his size 10 jaws! Craig was understandably shaken but happy to be alive and not missing an arm!

It goes to show that we all have something to be thankful for, whether it is being treated like a king by people who in short order become family and very close friends indeed, whether it is looking up into the beautiful starry sky on a dark night, whether it is surviving a shark attack, whether it is being blessed with smiles and happiness in the faces of the children around you, whether it is sitting on a beach in the middle of nowhere with a few pieces of pineapple and watching the sunrise and laughing at just how wonderful each and every day is, whether it is being loved and knowing it, whether it is taking a step into the unknown and coming back a little wiser, we can all be thankful.

To tell you the truth I look forward to getting on my next canoe and undertaking the next adventure, and I urge each and every one of you to go out there and enjoy life to its fullest extent. Don't worry if your canoe is not big enough; just be willing to learn from your mistakes and, more importantly, from others! I am still learning :)

Happy Days to you all.